


I will find my final home

by Dansnotavampire



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Ancient Rome Sidequest spoilers, As in they both survive rome, Character Death, Death from Old Age, Everybody Lives, Gen, Old Age, Old Friends, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, They're just so good, i cried while i wrote this, this happens later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22454173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dansnotavampire/pseuds/Dansnotavampire
Summary: Grizzop is smart enough to know that his end is coming. He reckons he still has a few more months, though, a year if he's lucky, and - for the first time that he can remember - he waits.
Relationships: Grizzop, Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam & Sasha Racket, Sasha - Relationship, and the kids at the farm
Comments: 35
Kudos: 67





	I will find my final home

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the RQG spoilers channel, to my own hubris, and to Ben, Lyd, and Alex for tearing my heart out. o7
> 
> Title from Elysian Fields by The Mechanisms

Grizzop is smart enough to know when the end is coming. He feels it, in the creaking of his bones, in the soreness of his muscles, in the dimming and blurring of his sight. His aim wanders by scant millimetres, even with the target barely fifty paces away, and he _knows_. 

He doesn't tell Sasha; how do you even have that conversation with someone? How do you tell someone that you're going to die, going to leave them alone with the world you've built together? And the kids, they'll have to know, too. For some of them it'll be their second father figure lost - that's not fair to them. They don't deserve to lose that again. 

He reckons he still has a few more months, though, a year if he's lucky, and - for the first time that he can remember - he waits. He goes out with the kids less, even when they beg him. (How do they not see, in the sagging of his skin and the slowness of his arm, that he won't be a help anymore? How does _Sasha_ not see, why hasn't she done anything? Said anything? She _knows_ he was never going to last as long as her, why hasn't she done anything to prepare?

What he doesn't ask, is why hasn't he. He knows why - after all this time, with Sasha, with the kids, with the school, he is finally afraid to die.) 

He goes out to the butts in what is technically the morning, though the full moon still sits high in the sky, washing everything with a cool silver light. The steady rhythm of _knock, pull, loose, thunk, knock, pull, loose, thunk_ is almost meditative. His arms don't quiver as he draws his bow, his hands are steady, but his grouping is… off. Larger, enough to be noticeable. He keeps shooting, anyway, and prays for guidance. For peace. 

_It's okay_ , comes a voice, one he has heard only a couple of times before. _You've done enough._ Warm, deep, comforting. A single tear rolls down his cheek, and he fires a shot. It hits the centre of his previous arrow, cracking the shaft, plunging through centre of the target. 

"Thank you," he mutters. He knows he is heard. 

He tells Sasha the next day. Knocks on her door, once again certain in his movements, in his actions. 

"Come in," she says, her voice calm and assured. She's grown so much since they met, since they left Rome. She'll be fine without him, when he goes. She'll be more than fine, she'll thrive. She already is; she smiles more, now, flinches less. The kids love her, the local guards trust her. He's proud - he's _so fucking proud._

He pushes open the door, steps in. 

"You alright, Grizzop?" she asks. 

"Yeah, Sasha, I'm alright. We need to talk." 

"I - I know, Grizzop." 

Grizzop blinks, slightly taken aback, though Sasha's knowing is no real surprise. 

"You're, well, you're dying, aren't you?" Her voice cracks, but only slightly. They both know that she's right, and they're both loathe to admit it. 

Still. Needs must. "Yep. I want to step back from training." 

She laughs at that, a single sharp burst. "Completely, or just a bit? The kids like you, Grizzop. They'll miss seeing you around." 

"Not completely. Just - I'm tired, Sasha. I get so tired." It hurts to admit it, but that doesn't make it wrong. Fatigue has settled into his bones like an old friend, and even a full night's sleep doesn't completely chase it away. It's okay, though. He's allowed to rest, now. 

Sasha nods. "'Course, Grizzop." 

Their companionable silence hangs in the air for a beat, two, three, and Grizzop turns to leave. At the door, though, he turns around, and with a grin on his face, he says, "Hey Sasha? Thanks." 

(She listens to him walk away from the door, counts ten steps, fifteen, twenty, and she cries. She gets to cry, now, without having to bury it in pillows, or in biting her own cheeks. Eventually, her tears stop, and she picks up the spearhead that has sat on her desk since they arrived here, having carried a barely alive Grizzop with her. It's a reminder, of what she almost lost, of what she is so lucky to have. She smiles a sad and hopeful smile, and starts to write a new training programme. She cuts her own hours, too, hoping to get as much time with her friend as she can.) 

Grizzop is thirty-two when he dies, six months later. No one is surprised - the kids all know what death is; most of them have already seen it. Sasha has been preparing for this for the past twenty years, waiting for the day when she has to say goodbye to her far faster-lived friend. Grizzop knows, at the start of the day, that it will be his last. Artemis' moon hangs high and full in the sky, as he sits by a campfire with the children he and Sasha have raised and taught, telling a final story of his friends and their braveries, of Azu's warm smile and her fierce, undying love, of Hamid's care for his friends and his constant striving to be better, and of Sasha, and all the good she managed to put into a world that seemed determined to stop her from doing so. 

Before he leaves, to sleep, and to die, he raises his glass in a toast - to Artemis, to friends, and to people worth saving the world for - "and that bit's for you lot," he says to the kids, who all share in his broad grin. He heads to Sasha, in her office, and leaves his bow, and his quiver of arrows, with her. She hugs him, tighter than she ever has before, and longer, and if either of them cry, the other doesn't see. 

Sasha pulls back, braces a hand on Grizzop's shoulder. "Take care, right? In whatever comes next. Promise." 

Grizzop nods. "Promise, boss. Take care yourself, too, right? The kids need you."

Sasha nods, and squeezes his shoulder. "Go, Grizzop. Do what you need to do." 

He scuttles off to his room, polishes his armour, cleans the mud off of his boots, and throws the snapped shaft of an arrow into the brazier warming the room, as an offering. "Keep them safe," he asks. "All of them." 

And with his tasks complete, and his friends as safe as he can make them, and the full white moon hanging high in the sky, Grizzop lays down, and closes his eyes for one last time. 

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on Tumblr/Twitter @dansnotavampire, and on Insta @4frogsinatrenchcoat. Comments, kudos, etc are my lifeblood


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